


Show No Remorse

by maryperk



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: BtVS S4, F/M, PWP, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryperk/pseuds/maryperk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy, alone in Giles' apartment on Thanksgiving, gets cooking help</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show No Remorse

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by Tasha

-or Buffy Hates Thanksgiving or Buffy and Cooking, No Mixy

 

Chapter 1

 

Buffy was in the middle of a complicated recipe when a knock sounded on the door.  Giles, Willow, and Anya had taken Xander and his mystical syphilis to the free demon clinic on Pine Street.   Buffy put down the breadcrumbs before she hurried to the door.  She just hoped that whoever was on the other side knew how to cook.   She was starting to get desperate.  Nothing was going how she’d planned it.  Buffy flung open the door.

 

“Help me,” Spike pleaded through pale lips.  Smoke rose from his body despite the indirect sunlight and the protective blanket around his head and shoulders.  His body shuddered at the nearness of the Slayer, but his inability to feed forced him to plead with her.  “Please.”

 

“Can you cook?”

 

Spike narrowed his eyes at the Slayer’s question.  “Is that a trick question?”

 

Buffy shook her head.  Her hair whipped around her face.  “No!  Can you cook?”

 

“Uh, sure.  Some.  How hard can it be?”

 

“Great.  Come on in, Spike.”  Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm, and she dragged him into the apartment.  She pulled the blanket off the vampire before she pushed him towards the kitchen.  She knew that Spike hadn’t been able to bite Willow earlier, and his current condition told her that he hadn’t been able to bite anyone else to feed either.  So, she felt safe enough to let him in.  Besides, Spike wasn’t one to use tricks like faking an illness to get his victims.  He took his Slayers head on with fangs and fists.  “I’ve got the stuffed turkey in the oven.  I need help with everything else.”

 

Spike allowed himself to be pushed along.  He was still so astonished that the Slayer had invited him that he hadn’t gotten up the gumption to protest her treatment of him.  “Not that I’m not grateful to be out of the sun, but I don’t see how I can help you much in my condition.”  He rested his hands on the wall and counter to help hold him upright.  If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Buffy was happy to see him.

 

“Condition?”  Buffy once again took in the gauntness in Spike’s face, and the unusual white pallor that was beyond a vampire’s normal paleness.  “Oh, you mean blood.  I don’t have any pig’s blood here, and the butcher’s is closed.”

 

Spike cringed.  Was that what he’d been reduced to?  The thought of sipping on cold, dead pig’s blood made him want to retch.  “Have mercy, Slayer.”  He half growled and half whimpered.  “I just spent who knows how long as a prisoner of a bunch of Army wankers who managed to make me unable to feed.  I need to heal as much as I need to eat.”  He pushed aside his duster and lifted his t-shirt to show the multitude of bruises and lacerations on his chest and abdomen.  He felt like a first class nancy boy, having to throw himself on the Slayer’s propensity to care for the hurt and wounded.

 

Buffy worried her lower lip with her teeth.  She realized what Spike needed, but she wasn’t sure how she could give it to him or even if  she should.  Spike wouldn’t be able to take her blood naturally.  No matter how attractive she found the bad boy, she wasn’t willing to give him access to her throat even if he couldn’t bite.  She knew how badly that ended with Angel.  Something told her that Spike wouldn’t let it get that far, but she couldn’t take the chance.

 

Spike watched the emotions flicker across Buffy’s face.  He was always amazed at how full of life he was.  She wasn’t a very good liar, especially to him.  He could always see the truth in her eyes, and he was concerned over how well he could read her.  “It wouldn’t take much.  Slayer’s blood is very powerful.  A few mouthfuls are all I’d need.

 

Buffy’s body tingled in a pleasant way at the thought of Spike’s lips on her skin.  She knew that giving him her blood could turn into a disaster as well.  She had no idea what caused the pain when he tried to bite Willow.  What if her blood healed whatever damage the soldiers did to keep him from feeding?  She picked up a sharp knife and evened her gaze at Spike’s icy blue eyes.  “We had a truce once.  Consider this another one.  I really don’t want to work any more than necessary today.  Do you understand me?”

 

Spike nodded his head.  He couldn’t believe that Buffy was actually going to give him what he craved.  Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d taste Slayer blood he didn’t have to fight for.

 

Buffy quickly sliced a cut along her inner wrist.  She was careful not to cut too deeply, only enough to let the blood flow freely for Spike to take what he needed.  She knew that her Slayer healing would kick in quickly enough for the depth of the cut she created.

 

Spike licked his lips.  His stomach practically growled, and he fought to keep his demon at bay.  He didn’t want to startle the Slayer into taking back her gift.  He gently accepted the offered hand.  He kept his eyes on her face while he wrapped his lips around the bleeding wrist and suckled the blood into his mouth.  His tongue alternated between curling and lapping at the wrist.  He wanted to make the experience pleasurable enough for Buffy so that she might consider feeding him again.  He ignored the part of his body that was aroused at not only feeding from Buffy but from pleasuring her as well.  The scent of her arousal was as much an aphrodisiac as her blood.

 

Buffy tightened her legs together and tried her best not to squirm.  She never knew just how sensitive her wrist was.  She had to fight herself to beg him to take her right then and there.  When she felt the pull of her blood taper off, she lowered her arm back to her side.  “Are you sure that’s enough?”

 

“Plenty,” Spike spoke in breathless awe.  To share blood was to share life experiences as well as feed.  He’d seen enough in her blood to make him want to learn so much more in the future.  “So, exactly what’s on your holiday menu, Slayer?”

 

Buffy fought to recover from the erotic experience and concentrate on her dinner again.  “I need a green salad, which I so can handle.  Buffy the salad maker, that’s me.”  Buffy nodded with vigor.  She hoped Spike didn’t notice the shakiness in her voice.  “There will be sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls and pumpkin pie.  For that extra Hellmouth-y touch, Native American vengeance spirits might drop by after dessert.”

 

“Holidays on the Hellmouth,” Spike muttered under his breath.

 

Buffy stood in the kitchen where she looked around confused.  “Yeah, you missed our Halloween fun too.  We had a little fear demon problem.  By little I mean short.”

 

Spike studied Buffy while he removed his duster.  So far, she hadn’t threatened him, and she’d been more than generous as well.  Then, he glanced around the small kitchen.  There were dishes and food containers all over the place.  With one arched eyebrow, he asked, “Did Hurricane Buffy hit this place?”

 

“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”  Buffy’s face flushed under Spike’s close scrutiny.   She knew her cooking skills were lacking.  The evidence in Giles’ kitchen was proof of that.  “Giles is going to have a cow.”

 

“It’s bad but not a national disaster, my little hurricane.”  Spike looked towards the sink where a bunch of white potatoes sat peeled and waiting to be boiled.  “Why don’t you get your taters started?”

 

Buffy nodded with her bottom lip firmly gripped between her teeth.  She could do that.  Buffy got out a big pot, rinsed off the peeled veggies before she placed them in the pot, and then covered them with water.  After she put them on high on the stove burner, she asked, “Now what?”

 

“When the water starts to boil turn it down about halfway.”

 

Buffy couldn’t help but notice how cool and sexy Spike appeared to be.  She could already see how her blood affected him.  His coloring was much better and his eyes no longer haunted.  The memory of his body pressed against hers during the fight for the gem of Amara flashed through her mind.  She suppressed the shot of arousal that made its way down her spine to pool in her stomach.

 

Buffy wrinkled her forehead.  “I knew there was a secret to boiling water.”

 

Spike let out a snort.  “So, who all is comin’ to this party of yours?”  He was jealous at the thought that there might be someone special in the Slayer’s life so soon after the pillock that dumped her on the college quad.  He refused to admit out loud that his taunting comments had come more from jealousy that he tried to ignore than truly believing the Slayer was easy to lay.

 

“Just the gang.  Mom’s away at Aunt Darlene’s.”  Buffy moved to the sink.  “So, that leaves Giles, Willow, Xander, Xander’s girlfriend Anya, and me.  You too now.”

 

“No new sweetie bear to impress?” Spike drawled.  He leaned against the door frame.

 

“A world of no.  Every time I get serious about a guy he turns evil.  So, that cute T.A. must be really nasty.”  Buffy turned to look at Spike.  “I mean, you saw the last two.”

 

Spike leered at the Slayer.  “Maybe you’d have better luck with one that was already evil.”

 

“Maybe.  No surprises there.”  Buffy giggled.  “What’s next cooking wise?”

 

“Is the salad ready, Buffy the salad maker?” Spike teased.

 

Buffy crossed to the fridge.  “No, but that’s easy peasy.”  She pulled the salad veggies out of the fridge.  “Wash your hands.  You can chop the tomatoes.”

 

Spike edged past Buffy.  His hands fell to her hips when she suddenly turned towards him.  Her hands landed on the hard planes of Spike’s upper chest.

 

Buffy stared up into Spike’s mesmerizing blue eyes.  For a moment she forgot to breathe.  The closest she had been to the vampire was just before they fought the Mayor’s minions last year outside the magic shop.  Buffy realized she’d never forgotten how beautiful his eyes were up close and personal.

 

Spike tightened his grip on Buffy’s hips.  He was amazed at how perfectly she fit against him.  Her green eyes glittered in excited anticipation.  Spike bent closer until their lips almost touched.

 

_Ring… ring… ring…_

 

“I should get that,” Buffy whispered reluctantly.  “It might be Giles with some news on Xander.  He’s got mystical syphilis.”

 

“Right.”  Spike let go of Buffy’s hips, and he continued his path to the sink to wash his hands while Buffy rushed to the phone.

 

“Giles residence.”  Buffy moved to where she could watch Spike while she talked.   It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him.  She was worried this was yet another one of her dreams.  “Hey, Giles, how’s Xander?”

 

Spike took off this red outer shirt, leaving him just his t-shirt.  He quickly washed his hands before he moved to the chopping board.  He could feel Buffy’s eyes taking in every little movement.

 

“Uh huh.”  Buffy’s attention wasn’t on what her Watcher was saying.

 

“Buffy, are you paying attention to me?”  Giles raised his voice.  He wondered why Buffy was so preoccupied.  Cooking made her harried not spacey.

 

“I’m… uh… just thinking about cooking.”  Buffy blushed when Spike turned to smirk at her with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Somebody’s there, aren’t they?  Did Angel decide to tell you he was in town?”  That was the only explanation the Watcher could come up with to explain his Slayer’s state of mind.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.  Anger filled her mind.  What right did Angel have coming to her town to stalk her after he had left her for ‘her own good’?  Spike’s expression turned thunderous when he overheard the Watcher’s words, Buffy stepped forward.  She laid one trembling hand over the vampire’s unbeating heart in an attempt to sooth him.

 

“So, Angel’s playing stalker again, is he?”  Buffy moved her hand up to cradle Spike’s jaw while her thumb caressed his soft bottom lip.  “Well, Giles, you have the right species.  My guest is a male vampire, but it’s not Angel.”

 

Spike opened his mouth to grab Buffy’s thumb between his teeth.  He watched her eyes heat up while he lashed the ridged pad with his cool tongue.

 

Giles quickly ran through the vampires that Buffy could possibly have invited into his home.  He kept going back to only one name.

 

William the Bloody!

 

“Buffy!” Giles protested.

 

“He’s helping me cook,” Buffy interrupted.  “I think I can handle one vampire.”

 

“Spike’s dangerous!”

 

Buffy shook her head.  “No, he isn’t.  Ask Will, she’ll tell you.”

 

Giles turned to question Willow.  When he was satisfied he spoke to Buffy again, “I don’t like it, but you’re an adult.  I can always do a disinvite.”

 

“Don’t worry so much, Giles.  It’s not like he’ll turn evil after I sex him up.”

 

Spike’s sensitive ears picked up everything, and he chuckled as the Watcher stammered and blustered over Buffy’s words.  “Water’s boilin’, luv.”

 

“I gotta go, Giles.  Water’s boiling.  See you when you guys make it back.”  Buffy hung up the phone, and then she turned down the heat on the potatoes.

 

Spike dropped the knife he chopped tomatoes with, and he turned to trap Buffy between himself and the fridge.  “You better not be playin’ me,” he growled into her ear.  If she was giving him mixed signals for the last hour, he was going to drain her dry the first chance he got.  He was love’s bitch, but that didn’t mean he was going to let himself be set up either.

 

Buffy shook her head.  “Not playing.”

 

“I’m so glad you said that, Slayer,” Spike whispered in a husky voice.  “When we’re done cookin’, and feedin’ your friends, I’m plannin’ on fuckin’ you all night long.  Then, in the morning, I’ll start over again until you’re too sated to leave m’bed.”

 

Buffy whimpered with arousal.  Long denied fantasies flashed before her eyes.  They were the dreams where a certain cool-skinned, punked-out bad boy ruled supreme.

 

Spike slipped a finger into the neckline of Buffy’s off-the-shoulder peasant blouse.  He’d been eyeing her neck and shoulders since he’d arrived.  As he lazily played with the gathered fabric, he asked, “Did you wear this for me, pet?”

 

Buffy stared into Spike’s lust filled face.  “I… uh…” she stammered.  The vampire’s scent and masculine presence played havoc on her senses.

 

“Doesn’t matter.  From now on you’ll dress just for me.”   Spike tugged Buffy’s shirt downwards directly between her breasts.  His eyes fell to take in her bared flesh, and the pink nipples pebbled under his gaze.  “So, pretty.”  Spike lowered his head.

 

A gasp escaped Buffy’s mouth when Spike’s mouth covered one of her exposed tits.  One hand gripped the top of the fridge while the other buried itself in his bleached blond locks while he rolled the hard peak around with his tongue.  Buffy closed her eyes and bit her lip in pleasure.

 

Spike looked up at the Slayer’s face while he sucked on her bared breast.  His hand slipped over to cup the other neglected mound.  With a quick twist of his fingers, he manipulated the tender tip.

 

“Ssssspike,” Buffy moaned.

 

Spike pulled away to purr.  “You think that feels good?  Just wait till I lick and suck on that pretty little quim of yours.  I can make you come over and over again.”  He switched to sucking on the other breast.

 

“Please, Spike.  Touch me.”  Buffy spread her legs to expose her moistened crotch to the vampire.  She used one hand to pop her pants open and lower the zipper.   “Let me come for you.”

 

Spike grinned against Buffy’s skin.  The position was awkward, but who was he to turn down a lady?   He pushed his free hand down the front of her pants, and he rubbed her wet clit with his middle finger.  When he finally could lose himself inside her tight, hot quim, he was sure she was going to scorch him alive.   When Buffy tensed up in anticipation of her climax, Spike pressed harder against her pleasure button while sucking harder on her nipples.

 

Buffy tipped her head back while trying to keep herself from collapsing to the ground from the force of her orgasm.   Neither Angel nor Parker had come close to making her come as hard as Spike just had.  She mumbled in displeasure when Spike pulled his hand out of her pants.  Buffy opened her eyes just in time to see his wet finger disappear into his mouth.

 

“Oh my,” a voice said from the kitchen door.

 

Buffy jerked her top up to cover her breasts.  “I didn’t hear you come in, Willow.”

 

“Well, you were kinda busy.”

 

Spike turned to the other woman.  He pulled his finger out of his mouth with a popping sound.  With a smirk, he said, “Hello, Red.”

 

The End.


End file.
